


save the last dance for me

by explodingsnapple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Compliant, Dancing, Daydreaming, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Missing Scene, Pining Harry Potter, Post-Break Up, Tumblr Prompt, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22835992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explodingsnapple/pseuds/explodingsnapple
Summary: Under any other circumstances, Harry wouldn’t have minded the idle chatter and people-watching, but even the sight of Ron tripping over Hermione’s feet wasn’t enough consolation for the fact that Ginny hadn’t left the dance floor all night. Harry felt his jealousy building up with every new partner she obtained—it should have beenhimtwirling her around and bringing her drinks and making her laugh.(Missing Scene from Bill and Fleur's wedding)
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	save the last dance for me

_August 1, 1997_

After spending the better part of an hour standing by himself in a corner, Harry was getting increasingly frustrated by the fact that he was the only person at this wedding _not_ otherwise occupied with dancing, drinking, or (in the case of the Twins) attempting to snog as many girls as they can.

Under any other circumstances, Harry wouldn’t have minded the idle chatter and people-watching, but even the sight of Ron tripping over Hermione’s feet wasn’t enough consolation for the fact that Ginny hadn’t left the dance floor all night. Harry felt his jealousy building up with every new partner she obtained—it should have been _him_ twirling her around and bringing her drinks and making her laugh.

At some point, two old women descended upon him and demanded to know why they had never met him before, and by the time Harry finished regurgitating Barny Weasley’s entire family history, Ginny was no longer in his line of sight. Harry scanned the room and tried to discern her particular shade of scarlet hair among a sea of other redheads, but it was a task that proved to be easier said than done.

“Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Hermione appeared at his side out of nowhere and handed him a goblet of sparkling cider, looking slightly flushed and giddy (although not, Harry suspected, from dancing). “Everything’s all so fascinating, isn’t it? There are so many similar aspects to Muggle weddings, but just a little more…”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, quite interesting,” Harry said absentmindedly. “You haven’t seen Gi—” he stopped and caught himself. “Uh, seen Ron? Have you seen Ron anywhere?”

Hermione looked at him quizzically. “Great-Aunt Murial kidnapped him for a bit, saying something about…”

But Harry was no longer paying attention; his gaze had drifted to a far table where Ginny was sipping champagne and talking to a tall, handsome wizard who Harry vaguely recognized as a Ravenclaw quidditch player. Harry felt his fists clench involuntarily around the glass.

Hermione sighed and gingerly touched his shoulder before walking off, mumbling something about rescuing Ron, but Harry hardly noticed. The quidditch player—thinking of him in more human terms than that sent cold, uncomfortable shivers up Harry’s spine—had said something _so_ hilarious that Ginny was now muffling a giggle with her hand, the corners of her mouth turned up with the same grin she used to wear whenever Harry cracked a joke with her. Harry knew he must look strange, staring intently at the two of them across the room, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

Suddenly, the quidditch player reached across the table and rested his hand on top of hers, his fingers curling gently around her wrist, and the smile slipped off of Ginny’s face. She shook her head and started to stand, but he immediately leaned forward and whispered something that caused her to, uncomfortably, stay put. He beamed and Summoned two additional bottles of champagne.

It was solely out of fear of blowing his cover—and endangering Ginny in the process—that Harry didn’t immediately grab his wand and hex the other man into oblivion.

In another universe, one where he’s a normal guest at this wedding and bears neither a stranger’s face or any recognizable scars, Harry marches straight over there without a second thought and the anger in Ginny’s eyes instantly transforms into a mixture of gratefulness and confusion. Harry shoots the quidditch player a pompous smile before looping his arm around Ginny’s waist; taking the hint, she leans closer into his embrace and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek by way of a greeting. He loudly asks her if she would like to go for another dance (implying, of course, that they had shared one earlier), and she readily agrees, leaving the other man gaping behind them.

Ginny practically glows as she spins around under the soft light of the floating lanterns, and Harry’s so lost in the moment that he temporarily forgets that she’s putting on an act. However, as soon as the song finishes (by which time the quidditch player has long since disappeared dejectedly into the crowd), Ginny’s expression fades and she pulls away from him.

Partially propelled by the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, Harry stops her from leaving and asks if he could have a word privately. She narrows her eyes but nods her assent and follows him out of the marquee to a small corner of the garden, far away from the prying eyes of the Weasley and Delacour family members. Harry rushes to give her his coat—her dress isn’t nearly enough to keep her warm in the cool summer night—only to start shivering himself. Ginny huffs in exasperation, but there’s a twinkle in her eye when she hands the coat back to him and crosses her arms.

He sighs and bites his lower lip nervously, trying to find the right words to begin the speech that he’s been itching for a chance to give every day for the past two months. He has never been good at expressing his feelings, and the gravity of this situation only serves to make his mind more muddled. Ginny starts absentmindedly playing with her bracelet—gold with a small Snitch charm dangling from it—and somehow, watching her fingers expertly weave in and out of the chain causes the words to tumble out of Harry’s mouth of their own volition.

He tells her how much he missed talking and laughing with her and how it pained him to keep his distance during his short stay at the Burrow. Ginny rolls her eyes, and he quickly adds that he liked his birthday present very much (despite it being cut short), causing her to blush deeply and look down at her feet. He apologizes profusely for breaking things off her at the end of the school year, explaining that feeling overwhelmed was no reason to hurt her, and is midway through asking for her forgiveness again when she finally uncrosses her arms, wraps them around his neck, and kisses him.

But then again, in another universe, there wouldn’t have been a speech to make at all. He wouldn’t have had to disguise himself as Barny Weasley, because he would have only been recognized as the Gryffindor Captain and, _maybe_ , his father’s son, not by his forehead or the scores of articles that had been written about him for nearly two decades. In another universe, Ginny would never have been solicited by a man she barely knows, because Harry would have been at her side the whole time, having never found a stupid, noble reason to leave it in the first place.

A low, frustrated growl coming from Ginny’s direction shook Harry out of his reverie just in time to see her stomp straight on the quidditch player’s foot, release herself from his grip, and stride off. Harry’s heart swelled with pride. When she—finally—caught his eye and smirked mischievously, he couldn’t help but return the grin.

He missed her, more than anything, but he knew he was making the right choice by walking away at this moment. In another universe, he would have already gotten his happy ending, but there was no reason for him not to hope for one now, either.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the prompt “Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my boyfriend for a second,” requested by @voldymorts.
> 
> HUGE thank you to the lovely @fielding for helping me figure out the tenses on this!!! If you watch b99, definitely go check out their work—it’s absolutely amazing.
> 
> Thank you guys for reading!


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